Techni-Porno Fantasies

What if I told you I already want you; that I don't need the facade of you calling to ask me out to dinner? I don't need the overpriced, over cooked pasta or some boring romantic comedy at a movie theatre to influence me to allow your kisses. I have no need of those conventions. The dinner and a movie are just a waste of good making out time.

I'd rather you call and tell me what you really want to do to me. Or, better yet, just come over, knock on my door, and, when I answer, grab a handful of my hair and pull me close so your lips can claim mine. Devour me with lust before I can breathe a syllable. Kiss me rough and deep until I need to grab fistfuls of you just to not fall to my knees before you.

Do you know how many nights I've thought about you? I don't want to play the man-woman games where you try too hard, and I pretend I might be only cautiously interested. I can hear the desire in your breath. I can see it - a wildly throbbing pulse near the stubble on your neck. When you think I might be interested -- just enough -- you will place my hand down on your jeans to let me know how much I excite you. You'll hope for more but will be ready to stop if it's too fast, too soon.

Why? Place a hand underneath my skirt. It will tell you two things: one, I didn't bother with the teasing convention of panties, and two, that seeing you is enough to make me ready. Ready for

your gasp of excited discovery. Ready for your fingers' exploration. Ready to grant you treasure in trembling sighs of pleasure.

What if I told you the answer is always yes; that your techni-porno fantasies and lewdest cravings do not shock or scare me? Do not hesitate to say them. Give them breath and voice. I'll give them life and whisper and lick my own against your skin. Do not hide them from me.

Instead lay them hot on my breasts. Gently bite them into my thighs. Shove them hard inside me, make them mine as well. I'll take them all, everywhere.